@viicar -- ;
Laurence sighed, his eyes closing momentarily as a knot in his throat got unbearable, making sure not show how his throat bobbed for a moment as he choked on thin air. It was something that Laurence contemplated often, if he were to go back, knowing full well what happens, would he do so? A strangers answer would perhaps be ‘obviously’, his actions hurt so many and brought about an ancient curse, but oh how FICKLE! How egoistical the humans are! Is he capable to let go of all the people he met, of all the emotions and feelings that he experienced?
A SELFISH human desire, where one’s happiness overturns altruism, loneliness grips the heart, he doesn’t want to let go, choosing between happiness or peace. Laurence feels a burning in his throat, an acid like feeling in the back of his throat like he wants to throw up.
― ‘ What would you have chosen in my place ? Meeting those that made you truly happy or dying a lonely death for the sake of others?’ he whispered, (they won’t thank you, or appreciate you for choosing them over yourself. What’s the point in such an existence?) his voice barely audible, hushed and low, yet remarkably soft.
here he was , doing it again . burying himself away just for the sake of severing others from the pain he believed he inflicted on them . dark , tawny features are drawn at first . because caryll knows what that’s like . holing yourself away to avoid pain , real or imagined . she knew why he did it , but part of her wondered if he believed that this sort of self-martyrdom would somehow absolve him in the end . that this self-flagellation was holy and necessary . every ounce of strain was evident on him as though he’d written it in smoke before them , with incense that cleansed the mind and dissipated away with wanted atonement . even though , in his perspective, the smoke never went away . it only thickened .
hazel eyes downcast for a moment , they lifted again with her hand that perched solidly on his shoulder . something more than smoke , than mirrors . sympathy that was real and remembered , not a dream that could be forgotten with the snap of one’s fingers . gods , how this pain seemed so dualistic .
‘ ya shoulders must be real heavy . thinkin’ you were th’ only one responsible fer all of this . even though ya never really listen . not t’ me , or anyone . ‘ her sigh was laden , tinged with remorse . were they the only ones who felt any responsibility for what happened ? ‘ ‘course i’d choose ya all . i’d been bloody set on tha’ road if i hadn’t gone . makin’ runes , but fer wha’ ? ‘
maybe that was easy for her to say . easy when you hadn’t really anyone . ‘ ya ain’t the only one who feels compelled to leave an’ all . ‘
